Tag Archives: post grad

What I’ve Done Today

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Well, after waking up, making coffee and breakfast, and taking a quick 2 hour nap, I did something I’m not proud of:

RE: Anti-feminism blog written by a woman who asserts that Jodi Arias killed her ex-boyfriend because…feminism

jodiariasfemCan I please have a job now? Things are dark here.

(Luckily, I’m not so far gone or bored that I feel the need to reply back to this).

This exchange brings up something scary (besides my feminist self running around town slitting the throats of young, virile men because I voted for Hillary in the primary election), I realized I was following this woman’s blog. I think I just hit the “feminism” tag on WordPress and just clicked on everything that came up. Who else could I be following? Am I on a list somewhere because I accidentally followed an Al Qaeda sympathizer blog after I clicked on a bunch of blogs with “Jessica Chastain” tags when Zero Dark Thirty came out? Is that how Al Qaeda gets you?!

HELPPPP MEEEEE!!!!!!

5 Signs That You Just Moved to LA

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  1. You stare at any thin person wearing sunglasses trying to figure out if they’re a celebrity. And you know what, often times it is a celebrity! Other times it’s the woman from the Wendy’s commercial! God, I love this city. Emma-Stone-Ray-Ban-Clubmastfw550fh550
  2. In case you get pulled over, you already have a lie ready for the cop as to why you haven’t gotten a California driver’s license yet. Though, as of yesterday, this one doesn’t apply to me anymore. And my new picture is AWFUL. When I passed my test, I was pretty excited to take a new photo for my license, and not because it was a bad picture — that picture was taken on my 21st birthday when I had that natural, happy glow you only get on your wedding day and when you can legally drink. TSA agents across this great country have given that photo rave reviews. But because I’m blonde in the picture sometimes I get a little trouble from bouncers, so I was happy to get a new one with my red hair. UNTIL I SAW IT. It’s like some sort of Biggest Loser “before” photo where you think “oh, she’s going to be so beautiful when she loses the weight.” The picture is so close up. I look like a bowling ball with horse teeth.
  3. Up until this week, someone has tried to sell you a Coachella ticket. No, thank you! I don’t want to pay $500 to get date raped in a teepee!63e09e62542d322f6ae4495338a03cc6
  4. You don’t know that when someone asks what you do, “unemployed” or “temp/waitress/receptionist/etc.” are never the right answers. You are either “in between projects” or you’re an “actor/writer/editor/whatever” regardless of whether or not you’re getting paid for it. For the second answer, they will inevitably follow up with, “well, who do you ______ for? Anything I might have seen?” and at that point you can just start exaggerating. While at The Den in West Hollywood a couple weeks ago, I found myself out and out lying about what I did to some guy. Then he told me he was a student at UCLA, and I said BYYYYYYEEEEEEEE as I moonwalked out the door.
  5. You get endless delight from reading street signs and freeway names in a The Californians voice. La Cienegaaaaaaa. tumblr_me6scrlCXa1rnfmydo1_r1_400 That’s really how they talk here!!!!!!

Finding a Job

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Hey, you know that kinda recent episode of Girls where Hannah goes middle-class-white-girl crazy and shoves a Q-Tip in her ear due to the stress of having a book deal? If that’s normal and soooo “relatable,” how would a normal person’s stress manifest itself if that person just moved 3,000 miles from home and had to find a job and pay rent? If the stress of getting paid to write a book at age 24 is a Q-Tip, and let’s say single mother making minimum wage and raising two kids is a hot steak knife…then I’d say I’m holding steady at a toddler’s tooth brush stuck firmly into my ear canal. In the grand scheme, it’s just champagne problems, but shut up, I’m Beyonce in my tiny universe, and having no job is stressful!!!

Now that I’m on my own, Girls makes even less sense to me. Why isn’t Hannah constantly talking about rent? If they wanted this show to reflect the feelings of a generation, then their scripts should have just kept alternating the words “rent” and “wine” for 30 pages. That would speak to me!

As of press time, so like, right now, I’m working on a bottle of wine after a long day of job lookin’. A day that was meant to be full of some completely undeserved relaxation, turned into a day of running back in forth through sand trying to get to an interview. That only kind of happened, but feel free to picture me doing that in a neon, wide brimmed sun hat.

b219f9e8a95011e2a22022000a1fc78f_7{This was me just prior to hell breaking loose}

My gal pals and I drove about an hour to Santa Monica for a beach day. Goddammit! I should have known I didn’t deserve a relaxing beach day!!!

Just about the time we got to the promenade, I got an email about a job opportunity that was very time sensitive. So in the ensemble you see above, my roommate and I went to the Apple store to tweak my resume and cover letter. After an hour of me hovered over a Mac laptop in my Coachella reject outfit, I finally sent off my stuff, and strutted to the beach, ready to relax after the stressful hour I had. What an hour.

15 minutes later, my shorts are OFF and my Trader Joe’s organic sunscreen is ON, and I am ready for some professional TLC from the California sun. Until! I get a phone call saying I have an interview and can I be there at 4:30, and of course I can ’cause all I have to do is put my mind to something.

So, my poor friends and I.. my poor, poor friends- May God bless and keep you, Jillian and Caitlin (my friends go by their full names, they are cosmopolitain ladies, THANK YEH). They were such great sports. SO, we run… picture me running through sand in that hat to the car. We finally make it to the other side of town, only so I can spend 15 minutes throwing on my interview outfit and showering in a bath of dry shampoo mist, until I was right back out the door.

For my 45 minute drive back, I meditated on the mantra that greasy hair would not be the determining factor of whether or not I got this job.

And hopefully that is actually true.

My interview happened and it was nearly the most majestic 15 minutes of my life, second only to my experience at Disney World’s Main Street Electrical Parade. Just kidding, it was okay, and I hope I get the job, but I release it into the universe like Deepak Chopra tells me to.

It was a stressful day, but it gave me an excuse to have a burger which I’ve been craving. That burger might end up being a celebratory burger or a depressed burger, but either way I enjoyed the burger. Breathe in, breathe out; rent money is just a man-made construct.

******If you’re in the Los Angeles area, please give me a job.

Road Trip to LA: Days 5, 6, & 7

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At 6 am, my mother and I left our Amarillo hotel room in the same clothes we wore (and slept in) the day before. You can judge us, but we decided not to bother with bringing in our suitcase because the longer we stayed outside, the more opportunity some backwoods hillbilly had to murder us. Sorry, if you’re from Amarillo, and maybe it’s actually a lovely place to grow up, but all I’ve seen is one of your hookers, 3 of your Marriots, a Japanese steak house that looked suspiciously like a strip club, and the worst Whataburger I’ve ever been to.

photo-3One of my top three favorite foods is Whataburger’s honey butter chicken biscuit with extra honey butter. It’s been a few years since I’ve had one, and I looked forward to getting to Amarillo, solely for this treat (because what else is there to look forward to in Amarillo besides the relief of sweet death?) and it was such a disappointment. My chicken was dry and I’ll be DAMNED if that was extra honey butter. I give a rating of C- for the Whataburger on I 40 East, in case you were thinking of making a trip.

Then there was driving. Then there was Vegas. Thanks to a $20 bill slipped to the front desk lady at Caesar’s Palace, we were upgraded to a suite, which helped me develop my new definition of success: having a TV in the bathroom.
photo 1-2Then, I experienced my ideal Friday night, which is watching true crime shows on HLN, snuggled in high thread count sheets.
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On Day 6:

Happy hour hopping with my mom.

photo 4-1

We made a stop at the Palm’s Steakhouse. For a classy joint with some bomb-ass sliders, they have a pretty tacky decor situation. This covers their walls:

photo 4-3I imagine that people must pay to get their picture done and put on the wall, and I had to take a picture of this corner because it’s the saddest little corner in the universe. They must be some of the loneliest people in the world. Sure, Steve and Heather Kaplan have each other, but I bet they feel alone even when they share a bed, but I’d bet they haven’t slept in the same room in years. Have any of these people met their fathers? Has Sammy Wong ever felt the touch of a woman he didn’t pay for? Is Flash Man still alive or did he succumb to his opiate addiction years ago? I guess I’ll never know, but may God bless and keep these beautiful, lost souls.

Meanwhile…

photo 1-3Barbra Jo Batterman, my inspiration and role model, is having the time of her life! She is single and thriving!

photo 2-4In the casino, we stumbled upon Shania Twain’s costume for her “That Don’t Impress Me Much” video, and at that moment, life could only be more perfect if a living, breathing Connie Britton was in that outfit.

We saw “Peepshow” with Coco T, which marks the second time I’ve seen “Peepshow” (with Holly Madison), so my self esteem should be a lot lower than it is. All I’ll say about Coco is boobs, and also she is a national treasure and a delightful dancer/entertainer.

FINALLY, FINALLY:

Day 7:

We drove the last 4 hour leg to LA to my apartment…. excuse me, TOWNHOUSE, yes, TOWNHOUSE, which idk if you know, means that our bedrooms are UPSTAIRS, and we have a lemon tree next to our front door so we are living The California Dream. Basically, I’m living the California Dreams theme song music. *Surf dudes with attitudes.*

PS Big thanks to the best mom in the world, SUGALYN, for going on this trip and spending 16 hours a day in a car with me, and footing the bill. And dad for also footing the bill, and fitting all my stuff into a corolla.

LA Preparations

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Now that it’s March 1st, the countdown really begins for my road trip to LA. There’s so much to do in order to get ready for a move, particularly one that involves driving across the country, so I’m trying to be really organized and keep my priorities in order. I’ve accomplished some important things so far, like:

1. Lost 2 pounds. I’m trying to subsist on a diet comprised of primarily kale and alcohol, so I’m prepared when I actually get to LA. My goal is that by the time I get there, I’m able to complete a Soul Cycle class on just a belly full of vodka and Pressed Juicery.

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2. Bought a really cute floppy brimmed straw hat because I needed it because the sun! And I’m on a never ending pursuit of being a hat person.

3. Went back to the orthodontist to get a removable retainer for my bottom teeth because last year I had my permanent retainer taken out. My teeth shifted, and every time I looked in the mirror at my janky teeth, I was overcome with the anxiety that if I was ever in a movie, people would see my crazy crooked bottom teeth while I was talking during a close up. Now I just have to wear this retainer 24 hours a day. If you’ve figured out that when I’m writing about how I’m a loser who drinks wine by herself while I watch SVU, I’m really scraping the bottom of the comedy barrel. But now I’m 24 with a retainer that gives me a lisp, so I’m somehow an 11 year old nerd and 45 year old divorcee, both with no life. A whole new set of things to talk about!

4. Took all my shorts out of my bureau and onto the floor so I’ll know where they are when I have to pack up the car.

5. Bought a Clinique daily wrinkle cream with SPF 25 to wear during the road trip.

The important things are pretty much out of the way, I just need to get my hair done and buy make up while I’m still in tax free NH. Still no job or place to live, but I’m pretty confident that if I hang around West Hollywood in my new hat someone will just approach me with a job offer or something.

My Advice to LiLo After Moving Back With Her Mom

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Lindsay, let me first preface this post by saying that as I write this, I am sitting in my childhood bedroom.

photoThis is what I’m working with right now.

I know this looks bad. And sure, I’m making myself low-calorie margaritas at my desk for dinner, and I don’t know if that qualifies me for an eating disorder or a drinking problem. And yes, I’m spending my Thursday night in New Hampshire writing in a blog that I don’t get paid for. The “I” on my keyboard is so worn out that I have to warm it up before I start  writing (I’m serous… seriiious), and I’m starting to think that when your “I” key is over-used it points to a Real Housewives level of narcism. And yet, I continue to write in this blog that nobody pays me for because there isn’t much left to do.

So, with that kind of full discloser, it may not seem like I’ve got it together enough to give you advice, but I’ve never done meth before, and like, no offense, I kinda think you have, so maybe I have some wisdom to impart. Besides the meth, I’ve also been living with my parents for about a year and a half after college, so maybe you can learn something now that you’ve moved back into your Long Island pre-Parent Trap home. 

lindsayfur-3_4_r536_c534

Okay, so first, you probably feel really bad about yourself. You should. I’m not trying to be mean, but I think you need to take some responsibility for screwing up your life. You were a child star, and that definitely sets you up for some problems. Your mother was a failed show girl or something and your dad was a money-hungry coke fiend, and that’s just the perfect storm to create a… well, a you… Basically, you are the new industry standard for a screwed-up child star. No one remembers Dana Plato, anymore. It’s all you.

You’ve kind of hit rock bottom, so let this be a time of reflection. Reflect on what you’ve done wrong, and what you can do in the future to be better. Make a game plan. Take an acting class. We all saw Liz and Dick, and I’ll grant you, you had your moments, but you could use a brush-up. Take this opportunity to chill and get back to basics. Don’t worry too much about what your peers are doing. I know you must hate Jennifer Lawrence so, so much right now, but just worry about yourself and what you can do to come back swinging. There’s no shame in moving home, we’ve all been doing it. Lena Dunham did it. It’s the thing, it’s chic! This is a bad economy, and snorting your entire fortune up your nose happens to everyone. I say “everyone” with the assumption that everyone is Stevie Nicks. And look how well she turned out!!

Just remember, if Robert Downey Jr. can make a come back, so can you. He professed his friendship for Mel Gibson with a weird kiss during the Golden Globes in a room full of Jews. He cannot possibly be smarter than you.

Just know that I believe in you, Lindsay.

10 Signs You Might Be in Your 20′s

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Clueless

  1. You idealize the 90′s. It’s probably pretty similar to the way your parents talk about The Beatles and Free Love, except we seem pretty fixated on Pogs and Clueless. Maybe not as influential on the world in the grand scheme, but who doesn’t love a slap bracelet?socalledlife_3981
  2. You think having a quarter life crisis is a real thing. Only 80′s/90′s babies would find a way to extend the teen angst period.
  3. This week you have tweeted just as passionately about gun violence as you have about Instagram’s terms of use agreement. Screen shot 2012-12-21 at 3.59.44 PM
  4. Then you forgot about both of those things a day later and just started tweeting Mean Girls/apocalypse crossover jokes. (I’m just saying we could stand to work on our priorities and attention spans. Use your bogus Adderall prescription to make a positive contribution to the world).
  5. You have a bogus Adderall prescription. slide_235654_1161467_free
  6. You need to calm down about Ryan Gosling.
  7. And cats.
  8. And Ron Swanson.
  9. You can barely pay rent but you somehow find the money for organic shampoo.
  10. You’ve written a list essay or shared a list essay about having a quarter life crisis or how great the 90′s were.

This list is not meant to belittle anyone in their 20′s, as I am a 24 year-old who has seriously considered self-publishing a book of essays called #MyPostGradLife about my quarter life crisis.